


Never the Right Words

by MyVantilene



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, canon divergence towards the end mostly because i hate the way rick did that confession scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyVantilene/pseuds/MyVantilene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because of course the next time Will would actually get to talk to Nico, it would be during a war with the metaphysical representation of earth and a couple of teenagers from California. Of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never the Right Words

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the ending a bit because Nico's confession was just about the worst thing Rick could've done with his character.

Will Solace first came to Camp Half-Blood when he was twelve.

 

Practically the first thing the campers get new additions up to speed on was recent quests. And of course all recent quests pertained to Percy Jackson in some way, and it didn’t take long for Will to catch on to his celebrity status. The second thing they talked about was godly parents and capture the flag games and at the very, very bottom of that list was what they whisper about in their cabins, under the cover of night, voices trembling with fear. Slenderman. Ouija boards. Nico di Angelo.

 

“I swear, he pulled skeletons right out of the ground,” he heard someone below his bunk whisper, “That Nico di Angelo probably wasn’t even a real kid, he must’ve been some Underworld minion in cahoots with Kronos. He was just here to gather intel on us.”

 

“Go the fuck to sleep, Nathan.” Was the reply.

 

Will had never thought about Nico di Angelo as anything other than a conspiracy theory before the next quest took place. He had apparently helped the infamous Percy Jackson in the battle of the labyrinth, and there didn’t seem to be any horns or claws protruding from his body, so Will thought he was safe.

 

He stood a ways off at the celebratory dinner, not bothering to even pick up a plate or join in the campfire songs. His aviator jacket swallowed up his torso, and he looked like he could pass out at any moment, but he remained standing the whole time. Afterwards, he headed off into the woods.

 

It wasn’t until the final battle of the Second Titan War that Will saw him again.

 

After the great flare in which he entered the battle, and the great advantage he gave their side, Will was convinced no one could ever say another cross word about the kid. They all owed him their lives.

_Will owed him his life._ He presented the distraction necessary for Will to avoid getting cut down by one of Kronos’ underlings. Once he had escaped the action, Will looked on in amazement as Nico zipped around the enemy, taking them down before they realized he was there. Sometimes he would jump in between a camper and a monster, even when he wasn’t fully prepared to block their weapon. But it didn’t faze him. Will could sense all the splits in his skin, all the breaks in his bones, but he just kept going, like it didn’t matter. Or like he was used to it.

 

Not a second after their victory over Kronos, Will ran up to Nico, bandages in hand, ready to do what he did best.

 

“W-what are you doing?”

 

“Patching you up.” Will replied easily, wrapping a strip of gauze around his shoulder.

 

Nico tensed at the touch.

 

“I see that… but why?”

 

“Because your limbs are barely attached at the moment? You must’ve lost a lot more blood than I thought.”

 

As if on cue, Nico swayed.

 

“Okay, you really need to lay down.”

 

Even with his eyelids drooping and his stamina fading, Nico di Angelo still has it in him to look suspicious the whole time Will’s cleaning his wounds and getting him to swallow some ambrosia.

 

Nico stopped by the infirmary late one night, after all the celebrations had run their course and some of the hype had died down. Will was taking inventory, a head counselor responsibility he wasn’t too thrilled about inheriting. Surrounded by order forms for new stethoscopes and the crates of antiseptic that had come by the truckload that morning, Will was completely alone, which was probably how Nico planned it.

 

“Here.” He said, dumping a Wal-Mart bag on the table.  

 

“What’s all this?”

 

Nico bit the inside of his mouth and let his eyes wander the room.

 

“Gauze, hydrogen peroxide, and some ambrosia. I had to cook it myself, and I’m not sure if you have to enchant it or something for it to work? But if nothing else it’s a nice dessert.”

 

“I see that… but why?”

 

Nico eyes shot back to him, and Will felt something squeeze his chest.

 

“We’re even now.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“You really didn’t have to —”

 

“You saved my life,” he said, eyes never faltering, “’Not sure why, but you did. And now you have back all the supplies you wasted on me.”

 

“But —”

 

“I always pay my debts, son of Apollo.” He reaffirmed, and really it should’ve been funny how formal and serious his tone became, but there was this…. _ethereal_ sense of regality to it that just sent a shiver up Will’s spine.  

 

He looked to the home cooked ambrosia, and when he looked back at Nico, the son of Hades was already gone.

 

For a week of pure bliss, Nico di Angelo became a substantial part of Will’s life. They played capture the flag together — well, rather he agreed to play on the Apollo cabin’s side. But no one could argue that the two of them didn’t work well together. Nico came to every campfire, every spar, every game of Uno Will invited him to. Of course, for the most part these were group things, but he still came out of his shell for him, joined in the conversation and Will was so sure Nico let him win that last round because there was no way he _didn’t_ see Will’s fist coming.

 

For a week of nothing but hanging out with Nico di Angelo, Will became certain they had at least _something_ going, friendship or otherwise. Then Nico didn’t show up for breakfast one morning and, okay, he doesn’t eat a lot, sometimes he’ll sit there with nothing but an empty plate but he’ll always be _there_.

 

There was no sign of Nico for the rest of the day and Will didn’t want to panic but he was sort of panicking. Eventually he worked up the nerve to actually go to the Hades Cabin to investigate, and ended up finding Nico sitting with his back against the wall, eying a gold figurine in his hand.

 

“You could’ve knocked, you know.” He said, his voice so tired and so lacking of venom that Will can tell he was saying it just to have something to say.

 

“Why’re you holed up in your cabin on a beautiful day like today?” Will said, intending to be cheery, but mostly just sounding sarcastic.

 

“That’s none of your business.”

 

There still wasn’t any vitriol to his words, but it sort of rubbed him the wrong way. Nico was a lot of things, but Will had never once heard him be rude.

 

“Alright, whatever. But you know where to find me if you get lonely.” And with that he left the room.

 

Will tried his best to be accepting, to be patient, to be careful not to force Nico into any situations he wasn’t comfortable with. As a naturally easygoing kind of guy, people normally found his presence reassuring, but Nico only got worse and worse, not coming to campfires or meals, disappearing for days on end, only giving one word answers and look around nervously as if expecting an ambush.

 

 _Monsters can’t pass into Camp Half-Blood,_ Will wanted to shout, _you don’t have to worry about an attack._

 

But it didn’t seem to be the monsters Nico had a problem with.

 

The more Nico withdrew, the more Will missed the quasi-trusting, almost-hopeful boy who had smiled and laughed even after a lost game of capture the flag. He knew it was still there, underneath all of that doubt and paranoia, Nico just had to find it again. Maybe if he knew how much Will wanted him to be there…

 

It might’ve meant making a complete ass of himself, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

 

So Will got up early, practiced his ukulele until it kind of didn’t sound like he was strangling a cat, and strode over to the Hades cabin. He unearthed that stupid, _goddamn_ ukulele out from under mountains of clutter. He made himself into the biggest son of Apollo cliché possible. He fucking _strode_.

 

But all of it was in vain. Nico wasn’t in his cabin. He wasn’t _anywhere_. He had disappeared, up and vanished, completely and without any warning. _Gone_.

 

“I don’t get it,” Will had grumbled, lying on Lacy’s bunk and letting her make little braids in his hair, “Where’s he gonna go? Camp Half-Blood is the only place safe from monsters. And, yeah, he might be a little macabre, but I doubt he’d give this up for the Underworld. So why? Why’d he run away? I don’t get it.”

 

“Maybe he just doesn’t like being cooped up in one pl—”

 

“I pulled out all the stops, okay? I invited him to _everything_ ; I made him feel welcomed, didn’t I? I gave him space when he needed it, company when he needed it, and he’s just going to leave without saying goodbye? What a jerk move.”

 

“I don’t know,” Lacy shrugged, expertly weaving his bangs together, “You got to think, when he first got here there wasn’t even a Hades cabin. Camp Half-Blood has never welcomed Hades’ children. There’s millennium of bad blood there, and it doesn’t go away because you took him to a campfire or two. These things take time.”

 

“Well, _these things_ aren’t even going to happen if he doesn’t stick around and _try_.”

 

“It’s easier to say that when you’re not the one who’s been ostracized your whole life.”

 

“Yeah, but… he’s accepted here now. Surely he sees that.”

 

Again, she shrugged.

 

“Well, he at least knows I’m going to miss the hell out of him, right? 

 

“He’ll come around,” she smiled, “Just give it time.”

 

The fact of his feelings lay plainly between them, and to Lacy’s credit she didn’t make a production out of them. She just put a hand on his and repeated _just give it time_.

 

And boy did Will give it time. Months of it. Nico would show up here and there, trying to help Annabeth find Percy, talking to Chiron about Top Secret business, and every time he came Will would get his hopes up, trying to find some opportunity to strike up a conversation, but the right time never came. Will felt discouraged at how he had faded into the background of Nico’s life, how he had become just a mop of blonde hair in his peripheral, an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. Nico probably never thought about him, probably never even considered him.

 

And Will tried to move on, he really did, but Nico would pop back in, a couple pounds lighter, a couple shades paler, scars and bruises marking up his skin, and he would have to suppress the urge to lock him in the infirmary and never let him leave.

 

Swear to Apollo, if that kid showed up looking dead on his feet _one more time_ Will was going to shove a can of chicken noodle soup down his throat.

 

But then Piper, Jason, and Leo arrived and the next war was already in swing. Everyone was preparing for battle, and Will could only twiddle his thumbs, waiting for the carnage to come, for the injured and the death-straddlers to flood the infirmary. Until then, it was a lot of anxiety and making sure everyone had enough ambrosia on them to last.

 

The closer they got to the actual fight, the more Will anticipated Nico’s arrival. He may have his insecurities, but Nico wouldn’t abandon them during a war. Fearless, faultless Nico di Angelo would swoop in and save the day again, Will knew.

 

Then Coach Hedge showed up, baring stories of his travels with as much screaming and thrashing as his girlfriend bared children. Having them occur on top of each other was a little more than Will could handle.

 

When Nico’s name first came up, Will’s heart almost stopped. A name shouldn’t have that much power over him, he thought, going back to the task at hand.

 

Through the chaos, he had gotten most of Hedge’s story. Honestly, he heard all the parts about the Amazons and the Hunters (sort of), and Reyna’s story really got him tearing up, but to have no word from Nico in so long and to find out _this_ was how he’d been living? Working himself to death, no breaks, no slack, for _gods’ sake_ child labor laws exist for a reason. _Three days_ in a death coma, healing from the severity of his own _nonexistence_ , and upon quasi-recovery, he asked why they brought him back if he couldn’t help them anymore.

 

Broke his damn heart.

 

When Will finally met up with Nico, it went nothing like he wanted it to.

 

He could sense a sort of darkness emanating from him, and he made up some excuse to hold his hand just to get a better feel for what kind of injuries he had.

 

Nico let go almost immediately and tried to glare at him but the look honestly made Will want to laugh more than anything.

 

Those were just the pleasantries, though. Everything went downhill from there.

 

Will knew he couldn’t be a pushover now, a gentle touch and a calm word never made Nico do _anything_ , and more than ever he really, _really_ needed Nico to listen to him. He would not have his crush’s death on his hands.

 

Maybe he went a little overboard, put things a little too roughly, _stop complaining_ was kind of the worst thing to say to a kid willing to push himself to the point of death while expecting nothing in return.

 

And then the real kicker. The revelation that even after risking his existence, after all the effort and pain he went through to save the camps, he wasn’t going to say at either one. Nothing was going to change for him. He had already resigned himself to a life of nomadic isolation.

 

It would’ve hurt less if someone had punched him in the gut.

 

Why? Why would he do that? He had _earned_ his spot at Camp Half-Blood a hundred times over, he had more than a right to live here, god, to let himself have a shot at happiness for once. Why would he give that up?

 

 _No one wants me_.

 

It was the furthest thing from the truth, and Will told him as much. He had to yell, had to get his point across, had to make sure he was heard. He would not have Nico di Angelo running off again, thinking he was a nuisance or unloved or _whatever_.

 

In retrospect, maybe he had overdone it a bit. Nearly a week of treating patients in the infirmary and Nico hadn’t visited once, not even to say hi. They weren’t exactly BFFs, but Will had felt there’d at least been _something_. But he probably didn’t even notice Will’s absence from all the ceremonies and feasts. He pulled an all-nighter _twice_ , disinfecting wounds and conducting surgeries for those close to death. Easing the pain of those too close. It wasn’t an easy job.

 

And when he was done, Nico wouldn’t even be waiting for him. What a raw deal.

 

Well, he’d beat himself up for another year if he didn’t at least _try_ to get Nico to stay. With authority this time, because it seemed to have worked when he told him not to use his Underworld magic. Uh, sort of. He _did_ summon those zombies. Like, _right_ after Will told him not to.

 

Nico was chatting up Jason Grace when Will motioned for them to talk. Will was glad Nico actually gave a tiny “excuse me” before going off to meet him because if not Will would’ve felt royally embarrassed.

 

He vented about being pretty much ditched. _Again_. And Nico did that half-adorable half-frustrating thing where he looked confused and unsure about being missed or cared about and all was forgiven instantly.

 

When Will demanded he stay in the infirmary for at least three days, Nico consented with the vague impression of a smile, a little eagerness in his eyes that made Will feel light-headed.

 

“Good. Now come on.” Will took his hand and began to lead him towards the infirmary, but a loud _whoop_ ripped through the air and Nico stopped dead in his tracks.   

 

“Forgot something?” He asked.

 

Nico squeezed Will’s hand.

 

“Nothing important.”


End file.
